If Tomorrow Comes
by Violet Teardrops
Summary: Cato's heart was pounding, the blood rushing to his head as he towered over her fiercely. She stared back at him, unfazed, her gaze filled with anguish and torment. "No matter what you say," he seethed, ignoring the pain stabbing his chest as he watched the tears fall from her beautiful blue eyes, "I WILL volunteer. And not even you can stop me this time."
1. The Beginning

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games.**

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 _"...but grief is the ultimate unrequited love,_

 _for no matter how hard or how long we love someone who has died,_

 _they can never love us back."_

 _\- Rosamund Lupton_

Sunlight was peeking through the window, and birds were chirping brightly, prodding her to get up. Her alarm clock rang thirty minutes earlier, yet she still lay lazily on her bed, hiding underneath the covers.

It was a Saturday, the perfect day for an eighteen-year-old to sleep in and skip training.

After much deliberation, she gave a groggy yawn, and threw the covers off. She turned to her side and slowly opened her eyes, glimpsing at the bed beside her.

She sighed. Of course, it would be empty.

It always was.

She sat up, stretching her muscles, hearing her bones crack slightly. Her eyes lingered on his bed, untidy and messy. It was his habit of never fixing the bed he slept on, not even his blankets, which were all bundled up at the foot of his bed.

As always, she got up and fixed both, plumping up the pillows and spreading the sheets over the mattresses.

She was supposed to head for the shower when something hit her toe.

Looking down, she saw it was his sheath.

He always left that thing lying around, especially when he was out training. Sighing with exasperation, she bent down and propped it up by his miraculously neat side of the desk.

Well, the only reason it was neat was because it barely had anything in or on it; just a couple of picture frames of him and his family. His certificates and one trophy - nabbed for being first place in their wrestling competition a few years back - were displayed on their shared shelf, so apart from the photos, his credentials, and a box of his personal things, it was virtually empty.

"Gone again!" she said to herself, shaking her head as she stepped into their tiny bathroom. This, apart from the desk, was the only place she could say was neat and tidy, because she always made sure it was. She hated messy bathrooms.

She hung her towel on the rack and pulled off the hairband that held her dark hair up and away from her face.

She stepped into the shower, letting the warm water run through her hair and down her body.

She loved the water; it was nice and warm, and it smelled clean, very different from District 2 itself.

District 2 was not dirty or polluted like the things she heard about Districts like District 8 or 12. It has that air of mining, definitely, but it was also fresh. Probably it had something to do with the fact that the villages of District 2 were widespread throughout the mountains, not hard-packed like District 12.

She reached out for the soap dish to find that it was empty; she cursed and made a mental note to remind the custodian that they were out of body soap so he could deliver another boxful.

After she cleaned herself up, she dried her hair with the towel, pulled her hairband around her wrist for later, threw on sweatpants, a light blue cotton shirt and her training jacket. She slipped on her training boots, grabbed her sword and his empty sheath and headed for the Weapons Room, where she knew he would be.

After quite a while of walking, she made it to the room. Its doors were large and made of bulletproof glass, so you could just peek to see who was inside.

She pushed the door open. It wasn't surprising that there was no one inside the room; it being a Saturday, most kids chose to procrastinate and rest their sore muscles.

But definitely not him. A grin grew on her face as she caught sight of him in the middle of the room.

Already there were piles of decapitated and de-limbed dummies strewn on the floor around him. He was focusing on the current dummy, whose arms, torso and chest area were covered in slash marks.

He was here a long time; you could tell just by looking at him. The heave of his chest indicated his panting, the sweat that glistened off his shirtless body...

She shook her head. His bright blue eyes did not even flicker toward her as she strode over, nor did he acknowledge her presence. His eyebrows were pressed in concentration while his large muscles flexed with every slash of his sword into the dummy. Beads of sweat dropped off the ends of his blond hair as he hacked away mercilessly.

Finally, she spoke. "Cato."

He sighed, running his sword through the dummy again. "Hello, Alix."

Silence.

"It's a Saturday, you know," she told him, flipping her hair way from her face.

He didn't look at her, but he said, "I know."

She crossed her arms. "Did you even have breakfast?"

He stabbed the sword deep into the heart of the dummy. "I don't need breakfast."

"Yes you do," she told him. "I know you. You're cranky on an empty stomach."

"I'm not," he said defensively, looking at her for the first time today.

"That's what you think," she retorted. "Quit the training for a while. I'm starving and I'm not eating without you. C'mon, let's go, we can practice later."

He shook his head. In a swift movement, he cut off the arm of the dummy. "You go. I'm not hungry."

She gave a stubborn huff, and before he could split open the dummy's head, she rounded about and kicked his sword out of his hand, disarming him, the sword making a loud clatter as it fell the ground.

Cato gave her a hard, angry look, his jaw tightening as he went to retrieve his sword, but Alix slid forward, grabbing it before he could pick it up. He growled slightly, and Alix felt her feet slip out from under her, and she let out a yelp as Cato heaved her onto his shoulder like a rag doll.

"Give me the sword," he said.

"No can do, Cato," she said teasingly, letting out an 'oof' and smacking his back when he jumped. "Put me down, you idiot, your sweat is seeping into my shirt and it's disgusting!"

She heard him grit his teeth. "Ugh, why do have to be so stubborn?"

"Because apparently you think it's better to starve yourself to death," she said, trying to support herself enough so she could wriggle out of his hands, but Cato only grabbed onto her legs tighter, and she wrapped her arm around his head, blocking off his sight. "Ever thought your muscles need protein to grow stronger, Cato? And where can we find protein? Oh, yeah, _food_."

Cato sighed with exasperation, trying to pry off her arm, to no avail. He shook his head, and she felt his hands slacken, allowing her to slip off of him. "Ugh," she groaned, pulling the hem of her shirt and looking at the gigantic wet spot in the middle. "Look at what you did! This was a fresh shirt!"

"You annoy me like crazy, you know that?" Cato grumbled, running his hand through his hair, sending beads of sweat flying.

"That's what best friends do," she shrugged, giving him a weak grin and hiding his sword behind her back. "Now go take a shower."

"Yes, mother," he said mockingly, then he laughed when she punched his shoulder.

"Ugh!" she groaned, wiping her knuckles on her pants. "Why are you so wet?"

He laughed again and picked up his shirt from the floor. "You know how wrong that sounds, right?" He said, cocking an eyebrow and smirking playfully at her.

She stuck her tongue out at him, giving him a scathing look, and slipped the sword back into its empty sheath. She followed him when he strode towards the shower room and waited outside for him to finish, watching as three trainers took away the dummies Cato destroyed.

They all had a look of both awe at Cato's abilities, and annoyance that he ruined another week's worth of dummies _again._

That was Cato for you. Ever since she could remember, Cato had already demonstrated a fierce liking for violence, and although violence was highly credited in the Academy, it credited less than a pooping monkey for Alix.

But, again, that was Cato. It was a part of him, and Alix knew that, dealt with that. She'd rather kiss the pooping monkey than reject Cato for all he is. She liked the whole package, and she'd paid that price several times over, without any regrets.

Which is why they were best friends.

Technically, they grew up together. The first time they met was when they were five, on the first day of training.

They hardly noticed each other, as they were more intent on the introductions to the various training rooms and weapons, as well as the new lives they would be forming for themselves once they began schooling.

All the kids in their class were in awe and eager for their training, but Cato was special. He wasn't just in awe...he was enthused. His blue eyes shone with excitement and names of weapons rolled off his tongue with reverence, his little face expressing his delight.

Cato was unique, and one-of-kind.

He proved that when every time the trainer asked questions throughout the tour, Cato's hand would shoot up over everyone else's, and he'd answer every question correctly. He was earning admirers from his class, and of course, was the subject of childhood envy at that moment, for his enthusiasm and intelligence.

It was these things that caught Alix's attention, her own eyes narrowing at him for what he was doing.

At the time, she wondered how much of a show off he would turn out to be - and while she was right by thinking he'd be an arrogant prick - there was something about the verve he displayed that instantly drew her towards him.

So she tried to get his attention. She walked near him during the tour; when the trainer asked more questions, she raised her hand too, even though she wasn't called, and even if she didn't know the answers, trying to contend with Cato's small glory.

It soon became apparent to Cato that this girl was copying him, and it annoyed him greatly. When she finally got called on instead of him and she gave a correct answer, he felt a small bout of irritation towards her. He gave her a dirty look, but was perplexed when she returned it with a beaming smile.

The day was almost over, however, and neither of them made any move to introduce themselves. So she did the last thing she _could_ do: she decided to say hi.

Her chance appeared when they neared the Weapons Room, the last station before the end of the tour. He was the first to reach it, clearly mesmerized by the shiny blades and various weapons. The class gave little 'oohs' and 'aahs', but only Cato leaned against the glass, wanting more than anything to have that barrier between him and the weapons broken.

Slowly, she approached him, and carefully positioned herself next to him, admiring the weapons as well. After a little while, she cleared her throat and said, her tone very matter-of-fact, "You seem so interested to be here."

Cato stiffened when she spoke, because he still felt like she was an irksome fly buzzing in his ear. But when he turned to look at her, her smile was so dazzling that the only thing he could do was stare. He wanted to give her a snooty remark, but found that it had stuck in his throat.

He was looking at her strangely, so she did the first thing that popped into her head and stuck her hand out, remembering what her grandmother told her about manners when introducing yourself.

"Hi," she told him, her knees shaking, but she told herself to hold her ground. She could do this. She wanted him as a friend. "I'm Alix."

"What do you want from me?" Cato finally blurted out, his cheeks turning pink with resentment.

Alix frowned slightly, her hand still hovering in the air between them. "I noticed you a while ago, and I like you. I want to be friends."

Cato looked down at the hand like it was a snake that was going to bite him, then back at her. Her smile was so genuine, so innocent, that he couldn't help it. It was contagious.

He gave her a small, tentative shake, keeping his face serious. "My name's Cato," he said in a superior tone.

When he slipped his hand into hers, happiness spread throughout her and she knew that she and he would get somewhere when they grew up. That she made the right choice of friend, and that pushing away her nervousness paid off.

Since then, they were inseparable. They spent their childhood together; training, playing, growing up. He was there for her when she needed him, like when boys bullied her, or that time when she sprained her ankle during training.

She was there for him when he needed her, like when he got unbelievably low marks for their end-of-the-year examinations because of his cramping leg, or that wonderful time when his baby sister was born.

They were more than friends, and after years of this, it became an unspoken agreement that they weren't friends at all.

They were partners in crime.

They had each other's backs, and no problem was too difficult to overcome, as long as they did it together.

Sometimes, people mistook them for a couple, because they were always together; training, eating, strolling in the school gardens, alone on his roof...you name it, they did it before.

By the time they reached thirteen, like the rest of the Academy kids, they were required to dorm in the Academy away from their parents until they turned eighteen. By the time they reach eighteen, they leave the Academy and the empty rooms are replaced by a new wave of thirteen-year-olds. It was standard routine.

It was an arrangement no one understood, yet no one questioned, either. They all thought that probably it was a strategy to make the children stronger and assertive, since they lived away from their parents and were free to choose what they wanted to do, as long as they trained.

No one really cared about gender. A boy and a girl as roommates? Why not? The children were too focused on their training to even think about relationships, dating, and other things. They were not worth the time.

There were never any cases of unplanned pregnancies in the Academy, which all the more supported the fact that they were too preoccupied with their training. There will still those parents who were paranoid and personally requested for their children's roommates, but Cato's and Alix's parents didn't pry.

It was no surprise when the roommates they chose were each other; everyone saw it coming.

The room assigned to them became their new home, the same room she fixed up and left just minutes ago. Their room, just like all the other rooms in the Academy dorms, was small, but there was enough space for two beds, a shared closet and a shared desk. Each bed had their own trunks underneath for personal things, and connected to the room was a small bathroom.

Most kids usually left their rooms unkempt and messy, since they didn't really care much for anything. But Alix didn't like messy bedrooms, and neither did Cato - well, to some extent.

She was nudged back to consciousness by Cato, whose hair was still dripping wet. He had a towel in his hand, and he was wearing a fresh shirt. The shirt he picked up off the floor a while ago must be in the laundry.

"Look at you," he told her, grinning as he slung his sword sheath over his shoulder. He motioned for them to begin the walk to the cafeteria, which wasn't too far away. "You look mad."

"Like pissed mad or insane mad?" she yawned, pulling up her hair in its usual messy ponytail.

"Both," he told her, pushing open the doors of the cafeteria.

"Well of course I am," she said, sticking her tongue out at him, scowling when he chuckled and pulled at her ponytail. "You sweated all over my shirt."

"Your fault," he said, taking a tray and handing it to her.

The cafeteria was a really big room with plenty of windows to let in fresh air. Food was served in carts, almost buffet-style, and you could eat as much as you wanted. There were plenty of those round tables with stools around them, which were almost always kept clean by the custodians.

There were only a handful of people here; some kids skip breakfast to go home to their parents' house and spend the weekend there. During a school day the cafeteria was packed with students, but during the weekends they were free to manage their own time.

Breakfast today could be eggs, toast, milk, muffins, or pancakes - a rare treat only reserved for when the Games were approaching.

Ah, the Games. It was a month away.

Warmth stirred inside Alix. She and Cato were eighteen this year. After the Reaping, it would be over for both of them, and she would be able to sleep peacefully at night from that day forward. No more worrying about losing your life or getting called...or worse...watching him get called and fight to the death on live TV for other people's unnaturally barbaric pleasure.

She hated the Games, which was an unusual thing for a person from District 2. She trained for the Games because it was required, but she wasn't blind to what the Games were, like the others.

And to think these people just volunteer risking their lives for entertainment...

She didn't like that. She wanted to have a long life, live a long life. There were so many things she wanted to do, and participating in the Games was not one of them.

Probably it was because of her parents. Her father was an ordinary stonecutter, working deep in the mines day after day to cut and haul large chunks of rock to be used for buildings. Her mother was just a housewife, though she did the additional stuff like cooking meals for the neighbors when they don't have time. It earns them extra income.

Being, well, not poor, but close to that, definitely gave Alix a different perspective as to how the Capitol ruled. They were, in her eyes, crazy, manipulative, and barbaric, not good, merciful people like many from 2 believed.

Even Cato believed that. It was one of the few things they disagreed on, and that topic usually sparked a shouting match between them.

She couldn't blame him. His own parents worshiped the Capitol like they were gods, and they lived the good life, as far as life in the Districts was concerned. He had no cause, no reason to think rebelliously like she did.

Cato's voice entered her thoughts and shattered her momentary black out.

"Are you gonna eat or what?"

She blinked and took a step back, startled. Then she looked up at him. He was grinning cockily at her, an eyebrow raised up to tease her.

Already his tray was full; piles of pancakes, one muffin, two eggs, several slices of toast, and two tall glasses of fresh milk.

She looked down at her own tray - still empty. Her stomach growled, and she heard Cato laugh.

"Here," he said, carefully placing a piece of toast on her tray. On it was some sort of smiley face that he made using bits of pancake.

Alix stared at it, then laughed. "You're crazy," she told him, sliding an egg next to the toast. She grabbed a pancake and some milk, and they settled down on an empty table, facing each other. "Well, let's eat."

And eat they did. Actually, 'eat' was too mild a term for Cato.

He was _stuffing_ himself - yes, all that food, good enough for two people, was for him - pushing everything down. She didn't think he even bothered to chew.

"You are so gluttonous," she told him in a disgusted manner. She was barely even picking away on her pancake.

"I'm _starving,"_ Cato told her, stuffing another piece of toast in his mouth.

"And just a while ago you said you weren't hungry," she said in a challenging tone, leaning closer to him. "Hypocrite."

"So I'm a hypocrite, big whoop," Cato said, scowling slightly. "Shut up and eat your food."

"Nah, you can have it," she told him, pushing her tray toward him. He stared at it in disbelief.

"You barely even touched your food!"

"Hey, I ate the egg," Alix said, sipping her milk, giving him a snarky look. "But I'm not hungry. Not really."

"And just a while ago you said you were starving," Cato said mischievously, throwing back at her her previous comment about hypocrisy.

"Oh, shut up," she laughed, throwing a muffin piece at him. He caught it easily and tossed it into his mouth.

"You suck," she said, hitting him again on the shoulder.

"Of course I do," he grinned, sarcasm dripping in his voice. He stood up, taking both their empty trays in one hand, then said, "But then, if you didn't have me, where would you be?"

"The top of the class," she teased, throwing their sheaths over her shoulder and standing up. "Since if you weren't here, I wouldn't be below you in rank."

"Just admit I'm too awesome to be beaten," he told her, dumping their trays into the dishwashing area. "So, where to? Wanna go train?"

"Yeah, and end up with a stomach ache while we're at it," she said sarcastically, pushing the doors of the cafeteria open.

"Then where do you wanna go?" he asked her, taking his sheath from her shoulder and slinging it on his own.

She looked up at him, smiling slightly. "How about...the usual place?"

Cato's grin softened. "The usual place it is, then."

The 'usual place' was the school gardens. Nobody went there much, considering they all were too busy with their training that they all seemed to forget that they needed to chill once in a while.

It was fresh and quiet, so it was the perfect place for both of them to just sit down, laugh and talk about things.

Whenever they just needed time - or whenever Cato wasn't too busy training his butt off - they would go here. Sometimes, they'd catch a couple of people there, trying to escape the confines of training, just as they were, but mostly, they were alone.

Just the two of them, and Alix liked that.

"So..." Cato said, breaking the silence as they walked down the path. He put his hands in his pockets. "What now?"

"You know, we don't have to talk," she told him softly, running her fingers through her ponytail. "I like it when it's quiet."

Cato sighed, and they kept walking. Alix loved it, but she could sense Cato was too jumpy to do this right now.

She shook her head at him. "You can't keep still, huh?"

Cato grinned ruefully. "Sorry about that."

Alix shrugged. "No big deal," she told him. "You know we can't train right now, since apparently you" - she punched his gut lightly - "ate too much."

He laughed when she punched him, then rubbed the spot she punched. "Or risk getting a stomach ache," he said teasingly, poking her side.

This was them. Best friends, constantly doing this without harm, without shame.

She didn't care about what other people would say - or constantly kept saying - about the two of them. She enjoyed Cato's company; she just hoped he enjoyed hers as much as she did.

"Okay, okay," she said, trying to bat his hand away. He knew absolutely every ticklish spot she had, and she didn't want to get tickled right now. "Today is going to be one of those boring days, I just know it."

"How so?" Cato asked her. He looked around, then dumped his sheath on the ground. He threw himself down upon the grass, holding out his hand for her, inviting her to join him.

She slipped her hand into his, then sat down on the grass beside him. Again, to most, they'd find that simple gesture malicious. But honestly, they were just _friends._ Best friends, as far as anyone's concerned.

"I don't know. I just...know," she said, then when Cato laughed, she pushed him. "Okay, that sounded stupid, but - "

"But nothing," he chuckled. "I get what you mean. 'Sides, we seem to be the only two in this school, anyway. But they'll be back by Monday. As usual."

"We're not the only two here," Alix said, lying down, although she wasn't sure if Cato was wrong. It could be possible, since they were the only ones who didn't always want to go home. "No, I bet Clove's still here, somewhere. Or Dyan. Oh, wait, he went home last night."

Cato snorted. "He's your brother and you don't remember where he is," he said mockingly. "What kind of sister are you?"

"Shut up, Cato," she laughed. "I happen to be a great sister, you know."

"Well, so am I. A great brother, I mean."

"You don't have to tell me," she said, playing with the grass. "I believe you. Your sister adores you."

"She's five," he said dryly.

"So?" Alix said, turning on her side to face him. "If you weren't a great brother, she wouldn't adore you at all."

"I suppose you're right," he sighed.

"I bet she misses you," she said softly.

"I know she does," Cato said, "But I'm not going home."

Alix sighed. "Again? Why not?"

He turned around to face her too. "I just don't want to. You know how it is. You know how _he_ is."

The 'he' Cato was referring to was his father. Alix knew about Cato's dad, how the man didn't seem to truly care for Cato at all.

She knew. She heard him every night when they were still living with their parents, scolding Cato for some small thing like missing a target by a measly centimeter.

It was as if Cato's dad cared more for the Games than he did for his son.

She also had the feeling that Cato's dad didn't like her at all. She couldn't understand why. She wasn't hurting Cato in any way, not like he was.

"Are you going home?" he asked in a quiet voice, looking into her eyes.

She hated it when he did that. Every time he did she had to control herself, to keep herself from blushing. It made her feel uncomfortable, and she didn't want to admit why.

She shook her head vigorously so he wouldn't notice. "No, I'm not. Dyan's home; for Mom and Dad that's enough. They know I can take care of myself."

"You don't have to stay here for me, you know," he told her, pouting slightly.

"Who said I was staying here for you?" she said defensively, but she was laughing.

He chuckled, but he said, "Be serious."

She smiled. "Okay, so _maybe_ I'm staying here for you, but you're not the only reason."

"Enlighten me, then," he challenged. "What are the other reasons?"

Alix's mouth scrunched up. He knew she didn't have any other reason but that.

"See," he said, laying on his back again so he could watch the sky. "I don't know why you do these things for me."

"You're my friend, Cato," she sighed. "My best friend, remember? Always."

He chuckled. "Partners in crime."

"You?" she held out her fist.

"And me," he completed, touching his fist to hers.

That was already an old thing. They started it way back when they were ten, the first time they acknowledged to each other that they were best friends.

He suggested it. They were feeling awkward since they admitted to each other that they were best friends now, so he declared they make a handshake or something like that, to solidify it.

It's been their thing ever since.

"Alright," she said, getting up, "Time to stand up."

"Damn," Cato said, resting his hands behind his head. "Just when I feel comfortable already."

"C'mon, you lazy butt," she said, poking her sheath into his stomach. He laughed. "Do you want to train or what?"

"Fine, fine!" He said, standing up too. He threw his sheath over his shoulder again, taking a deep breath. Then he looked at her, a challenging glint in his eyes.

She looked at him suspiciously. "What?"

"I'm going to beat you this time," he told her, crossing his arms. "Hand-to-hand combat. You up for it?"

She smirked. She'd won against him, three days in a row, and what she'd realized was that all she had to do was smile at him. Then he'd seem to go off a little, then she could tackle him.

She didn't know what to make of that, but she took the opportunities gladly. "Like I couldn't beat you."

"I'd like to see you try," he said, grinning as they made their way back into the Academy.

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 **A/N:** **A/N: Hello everyone! :) I** **f this seems familiar to you, you probably read it in the past before I reworked it. Here's the reworked version, and I hope it's of a much better quality than before.**

 **Anyway, please read keep reading this. For all those who love Cato, mourn for him, and wish he hadn't died, maybe even imagine what kind of life he might have had before the Games, then I suppose this is the fic for you. Mind you though...I follow everything that happened. So yes, Cato does die, but there is more insight into his death and the effect it has on the people who love him. Like me. :D** **I hope you guys liked it as much as I liked writing it.**

 **This is only the starter chapter, and I've got the second chapter already here in my arsenal...it's just up to you guys whether or not I'll release this little mockingjay out into the world. :D**

 **Please leave a review!**


	2. Skills of a Victor

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Hunger Games.**

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Alix was holding a brand new sword in her hands, admiring the way the blade reflected everything so clearly. She ran her finger across the blade, giving a hiss of satisfaction when it made a small cut on her finger, proof of how sharp it was.

She wasn't masochistic; she was just proud to have it.

She gave it a swing, and then a lunge, her form perfect and her motions graceful, almost as though she was dancing, and she kept on doing so, when the earth began to shake vigorously, making her trip on her feet and stumble, the sword slipping out of her hand, falling into a chasm that just began to open...

"Up, Alix, wake up!"

Alix groaned, batting her hand in a random direction to shoo away the disturber. She pulled her blanket over her head, and said in a muffled voice, "Go _away._ "

"It's Monday, Alix, and it's seven-thirty. Class starts in an hour."

"I'll manage thirty more minutes," Alix said groggily, her fist shooting out in an attempt to punch whoever was speaking. "Just go away."

No response. It was quiet, and she assumed that she'd finally been left alone and given reprieve. Alix sighed in relief, snuggling against her pillows and cocooning herself in her blanket again. She proceeded to close her eyes when she felt the bed dip behind her, a pair of strong, muscular arms wrapping themselves around her waist.

"Dammit!" she yelled, performing a release technique by grabbing the assailant's arm and twisting it, pushing herself against it and jumping out of bed. She whipped around furiously to see Cato lying flat-out on her bed, clutching his arm as though she had injured him but was laughing his guts out. "Dammit, Cato! You know I hate getting woken up like that!"

He couldn't answer her because he was still clutching his stomach and having his laughing spasm.

She gave an indignant growl and tackled him, putting too much pressure on the springs that she ended up tossing both of them off the bed.

He gave a yell as they crashed to the floor, taking her sheets with them. They tumbled into one tangled heap, their voices morphing into laughs, and Alix barely managed to get out, "What is your problem?"

Cato grabbed her arms and switched their positions, so that he was hovering above her. He had her arms pinned down, and he was grinning. "It was the only way I could wake you up."

He was already dressed up in the Academy uniform (well, it wasn't really a uniform, just a convenience everyone in the school seemed to understand) - black sweatpants, his training boots, and a fresh white shirt. His training jacket was still hung against the door of the closet, and she realized he really wasn't going to start class without her.

She, on the other hand, was still in her usual sleepwear - her favorite green flannel shorts and a really big, old shirt of her dad's.

They were both still laughing, still on the floor, when the door flung open unceremoniously and a girl with dark hair already tied up in a ponytail poked her head in the room.

"Good morning, you two, rise and shine, it's an early start for - _whoa,"_ Clove's large eyes grew larger at the sight of them on the floor, Cato pinning Alix down. "Whoa, whoa, whoa! Did - oh my God - were you two - _disgusting!"_

Cato sighed, and Alix just blushed. They understood Clove's meaning. "No, Clove, we were just - "

"Save it, don't wanna hear it!" Clove said, her tone still disgusted, pinching her nose like they smelled bad and sticking her tongue out at the two of them. "You two, off the floor. Sheesh, all I did was come up and wake you and here I'm greeted by - ugh," she wrinkled her nose.

"We're just friends, Clove," Alix said patiently as Cato pushed himself off of her and held out his hand, helping her up. She snatched her hand immediately away after getting on her feet, looking at Cato in mock annoyance. "If anything, _he_ woke _me_ up, very irritably, might I add."

"Just making sure you weren't planning to sleep in today," Cato smirked, pulling her into a headlock and ruffling the top of her dark hair. Alix pushed him off, hitting his arm and scowling when he only chuckled.

"Like you always do," Clove added dryly, rolling her eyes.

"Are you two done ganging up on me?" Alix asked, irritated. She was rummaging through their closet for her clothes. "I'll be done in a minute, you can leave!"

"You go," Clove told Cato. "You're the dude. She's just embarrassed because she's a girl."

"I did not need to know that, Clove," Cato shook his head, picking his sword up and swinging it over his shoulder. He grabbed his jacket and said, "I'll be waiting outside!"

As soon as Cato shut the door behind him, Clove smiled wryly. She cracked her knuckles, then told Alix, who had already gone into the shower, "If you're not out here in three minutes, I'm barging in there then helping you, regardless of whether you're naked or not!"

" _Clove!"_ Cato and Alix's muffled voices sounded from behind their respective doors. Cato added in an annoyed tone, "We heard you!"

Clove rolled her eyes, but still managed to turn red. "Huh," she told herself. "Guess I do speak a bit too loudly."

"You think?" Alix bit back, hopping on one foot as she tried to pull on her training boots. She took the liberty of dressing up in the bathroom; her towel was hanging over her shoulder, and her hair was oozing wet. She grabbed the towel and ran it quickly through her hair, trying to dry it well enough to keep it from seeping into her shirt. "And I'm not embarrassed, I just don't want to feel like a holdup to you guys!"

"So," Clove grinned snarkily, and Alix tried to resist the urge to smack her across the face, "you _do_ spend some loving times with Cato, being liberated by taking your shirt off, I mean - "

"Clove, you stick a toe out of line and I will cut your foot off," Alix threatened, tying up the final knot on her boots.

"And not even two minutes flat," Clove said cheerfully, resting her hands on her hips. "Well done, that's got to be a new record - "

Alix tuned Clove out by letting out an exasperated groan, grabbed her jacket, hairband and sword and pulled open the door, Clove following closely behind her.

"About time," Cato mock yawned from his position against the opposite wall, and Alix punched his stomach lightly.

"You two are ridiculously sweet," Clove said sarcastically, arranging the knives properly in her training jacket. "So sweet, my teeth are starting to hurt. In fact, maybe a kiss or two and all my teeth would start falling off..." She stopped under the look Alix and Cato were giving her. "What?"

"Way to ruin the morning, Clove," Cato said angrily, looking genuinely pissed off and like he wanted to snap her neck.

Clove gave him that puppy-dog look that Alix would find hilarious, if not for the rising tension. "Aw, I'm sorry," she said, her tone dripping sarcasm.

"Clove, stop," Alix said impatiently, crossing her arms to tower over the girl and stepping in front of Cato to keep him from grabbing Clove. "He's not joking, you know."

Clove sighed, eyeing the two. They were much bigger than her, and one aggravated Cato was virtually unstoppable, even against a rational Alix and her. "Fine, fine," she told them, dropping the sarcasm she was bringing on the floor. "Sorry. Really, Cato."

Cato was glaring, but he merely shrugged. "Can't do anything about it," he muttered grumpily, then tried to smile bleakly at her. "You're Clove. Our oh so c-lovely, sarcastic Clove. Wouldn't be Clove if sarcasm didn't come with you."

Clove beamed at him, more out of nervousness than actually smiling. "Ah, at last, someone who understands," she said, closing her eyes in content, and Cato took the opportunity to roll his eyes at her.

"We heading for class or for breakfast?" Alix asked, halting just before the cafeteria doors.

It was jam-packed with people, a far cry from last Saturday. There were almost a hundred kids in there - okay, maybe that was an exaggeration, but really. There were plenty of kids, sitting around tables on stools, on those plastic chairs reserved for extras, on other people's laps. Others were throwing food at each other, older kids dumping soda pop on the younger ones, like some sort of 'initiation'...

In other words, it was chaos.

Clove's mouth scrunched up, obviously repulsed. "Can we just skip?" she asked, looking up at the two older ones.

"Skip," Alix swallowed, furrowing her eyebrows and looking up at Cato wistfully. She didn't want to be inside the cafeteria with so many rowdy, noisy people and end up with potato salad in her hair.

Cato shrugged. "Skip." He shared a look with Alix, and she saw that he was just as repelled as she was.

They turned on their heels and headed straight for class, Clove parting with them to join her own. She was fifteen, and, being three years below them, had a different class to attend.

It was a funny story how they'd all become friends in the first place.

There was the two of them; the seniors, as they were called, because after this year they'd leave the school forever and find a job, as a stonecutter, or maybe a Peacekeeper. They'd been friends for the longest time, and for the longest time too, it was just the two of them. Sure, Cato made other friends along the way, but he ended up getting into too many brawls with them, that he'd also gained plenty of enemies.

Alix was the only one he was absolutely sure was on his side, and always would be.

Then there was Alix's brother, Dyan. He was tall and well-muscled, not in the way Cato was, but rather fit anyways, though he didn't like bringing up that Alix may be heavier and stronger than he was. He had the same straight, blue-black hair, but his eyes were a lighter shade of blue.

Cato liked the kid, and while they weren't very close, tended to look after him in case Alix wasn't there, so they had enough good times together. Besides, Dyan could get himself into as much trouble than it was worth, so not only did he need an older sister, but maybe he could do with an older brother figure, too.

Then there was Clove. That's the fun part.

Clove had just started living in the Academy and as part of the 'initiation', a bunch of older kids, mostly girls, had decided to mess with her by ganging up on her after lunch in a deserted corridor.

Being only thirteen then, Clove was a little nervous when the first girl blocked her way to class, but she had always known her agility and talent with knives would give her an edge. But the girls who surrounded their leader, growling fiercely, cracking knuckles…these girls were much taller, much older, and much bigger than she was.

The girl pulled at Clove's ponytail, and by then, the other girls began tugging at Clove's clothes, and pretty soon, began pinching her skin, punching her, shoving her...

Alix and Cato were returning to their room from class when they saw a crowd of unruly girls cheering and booing in the corner, and when Cato raised his voice to call them off for being noisy, the girls stopped, turning around to face him, allowing Alix a glimpse of a bruised and fuming Clove.

Immediately, Alix shoved through the heavy bodies to get a better look at the girl, who was looking at her both imploringly and apprehensively. Alix wrapped delicate fingers around her arm and helped her up, shooting deadly looks to the girls who'd ganged up on Clove.

"I'll deal with them," Cato had said to Alix with a smile, patting her shoulder, glaring at the now cowering, nervous-looking girls.

Alix stayed with Clove while she was in the infirmary, gathering information about her. Clove wasn't the shy type, and so engaged in conversation almost immediately and by the end of the day, with only a few bruises and a bandaged hand, Alix introduced Clove to Cato, sealing her as part of their group of friends.

"What are you thinking?" Cato asked her, seeing that blank look she had on her face when she was thinking.

She looked up at him, pacing her strides as they rounded the corner and their classroom was at the far end of the hallway, then smiled. "Nothing, really. Just...us. You and me and Clove...us."

He smiled back at her, then wagged his eyebrows playfully, nudging her gently with the butt of his sword. "But you and me, mostly, right?"

She hit him on his shoulder with hers, and he laughed his lovely laugh again, brushing his shoulder as though what she did simply left dust on it and didn't hurt him.

Cato opened the door for her, and they stepped into the room. Most of their class was there, sitting in their chairs, or maybe tossing around airplanes at other people. The trainer wasn't there yet, so they tried looking for two empty seats next to each other.

But there was none. There were two empty chairs, yes, but far away from each other, on different corners of the room.

"Front or back?" Cato asks her, and she just shrugged.

"You choose."

Cato sighed, then, taking her by the elbow, lead her to the space in front. A guy was sitting next to the empty chair, just staring, his chin in his hand and making raspberry noises to no one. Cato cracked his knuckles, startling the boy back into reality.

"Hey, kid," Cato said, his voice slightly edgy and aggressive, like when he was taunting Alix during sparring sessions. "Scram."

The boy looked up with menacing eyes. "Or what?"

"Or I'll beat you to a bloody pulp right here, right now," Cato challenged. "Get out. Now."

The boy looked up at Alix, then he smirked. "Oh, I see," he teased. "Want some room for your girl, huh?"

"I am not his girl," Alix snapped, grabbing the front of the guy's shirt. "Get the hell out of the chair or risk losing your nose."

The boy growled audibly, but stood anyway. He was mumbling a stream of curses as he made his way to the back, defeated.

Cato was still glaring, then he turned to Alix, his expression shifting from annoyance to cheerfulness. "You and I make such a great team."

"I know," Alix shrugged, sitting down on the recently-vacated seat, but Cato stopped her.

"No, you take that one," Cato said, pointing to the other chair. He sat down carelessly, dropping his things around his feet.

"Why?" she asked, but she sat down anyway. She placed her stuff neatly down, not like Cato.

"Because," he told her, but not giving her a definite answer. He just shrugged, and she realized that these were one of those times when Cato was not going to tell her anything.

The moment Alix sat down, the door opened wide with a loud bang, and their trainer walked in, his steps confident and menacing.

That was always the vibe of District 2. Brutal, confident, tense. Always ready for action.

And Alix loved that.

"All right, let's get started," he barked, his voice fierce. Their trainer was a large, broad-shouldered man who was in his late forties. His hair was graying some, but you couldn't really tell, thanks to his military-style buzzcut. Because of this, most of his students nicknamed him 'Buzzcut'. "The Games are nearing, and you guys are eighteen. Either you step up now and be Careers, or jump out the window."

"Can we hang ourselves instead?" a boy at the very back asked. The class laughed, and Buzzcut's lips twitched.

"Only if you know how to to make a noose," he said, narrowing his eyes, a challenging glint reflecting in them, "and noose-making might be essential, if you get Reaped. But that's not what I'm talking about. I'm talking about stepping up to the plate."

When no one answered, his cocked his eyebrow. " _Volunteering,"_ he sneered. "And when you volunteer, you gotta be sure you're going to win. Otherwise, where would we be?"

"In District Twelve?" Alix muttered, and the people who heard laughed.

"Exactly," the trainer told her, his tone humored and approving. "Now file out! One line for the boys, one for the girls. We're heading to the Training Center for a live demonstration as to what real victors are made of."

"Back of the line," Cato whispered to her as they stood up, following the rest of the class outside.

They hated being in front of the line. Usually it's the frontal people who get picked for stuff like cleaning and fixing up the dummies that were destroyed during the class. They were tall anyway, they could get away with it.

They were ordered to sit down on the matted flooring of the gigantic Training Center. During the weekend, most of the equipment was set aside, and if you wanted to train, you'd have to drag it out in the middle yourself. But during classes, the equipment - different sets of weights and work-out machines, targets for the knife- and axe-throwers, dummies that varied in size - were all decked out, ready for use.

There was a large space in the center of the room made specially for practice combat sessions. The examinations were held in a special, high-tech sort of room, usually with close-to-life settings and moving dummy-slash-puppets to attack.

While everyone was settling down, Buzzcut called, "Cato! Alix! Up, front and center. Now."

They shared a look, then went up to the trainer.

"Okay, now," he said aloud, calling the attention of the class. "Cato, Alix, grab a weapon or two from the Weapons Room. I want to know what you got, and be sure the other knows too."

Cato shrugged, ruffling his blond hair, and Alix nodded.

They went to the Weapons Room and were carefully selecting a weapon to use, when Cato said, "What do you think he's going to make us do?"

"Demonstrate," Alix answered simply, pulling out a small, slim sword from the sword rack. "I've got this and a small knife in my pocket. You?"

Cato pried his favorite sword off the rack, turning it in his hands to examine the blade, before looking at her, his eyes meeting hers. "Just this."

Alix's eyebrows furrowed, confusion plain in the way she scrunched up her lips. "Are you sure?"

He smiled. "Positive."

They made their way back, then showed Buzzcut their weapons. He looked them over, then nodded. "Now," he clapped his hands together, "Cato, to the far left of the combat area. Alix, to the right," he ordered. They followed, looking at each other tensely.

"I said today I was going to make you watch a live demonstration of how real victors are supposed to be," Buzzcut said. "And here they are. Both of you will fight. No deaths, not yet. Wait for the Games if you want to kill each other. But," he smirked, "I want you to show us what you've got."

Alix and Cato knew this was coming. It had happened several times before; it was nothing new. They were used to demonstrating combat, especially when it came to fighting each other.

Cato's shoulders began to heave up and down, and he was jumping slightly. He cracked his neck, and the sword was twitching in his hand.

This was what he looked like when he was eager for a fight. His muscles tense, his eyes concentrated...

Alix's way of preparing was slightly different. She squared her shoulders, her body growing tense. Her jaw clenched and her eyes, just like his, became dark with concentration.

"And...go!"

Alix charged at Cato, her sword ready in her hand. He ducked easily, and she sensed his sword coming at her from behind. She whipped around and deflected, their swords making a screeching sound at the impact.

Alix took two steps backward and swung her sword toward Cato's side, a feral growl escaping her lips. Cato's sword blocked it, and he pushed it away, making Alix slightly unbalanced.

They fought like two forces of nature, and it was hard not to keep your eyes on them.

Cato was like a rampaging tornado, and Alix was like a rushing stream, and the way they slashed and stabbed was amazing to watch.

Cato showed off his superior strength by running at her, carrying her over his shoulder and throwing her down to the ground. She gave a loud 'oof', the wind rushing out of her lungs. Just before Cato could strike, she rolled over, tripping him with her legs.

He pushed her off, but Alix was ready for that. She maneuvered around him, making him trip. Before he could hit her, she rolled behind him, then tackled him from the back.

He made a surprised sound, and his hand tried to pry her arms off. He threw her off his back by elbowing her in the stomach, which sort of hurt.

She clutched at it, wincing in pain, and she stepped back a bit. Cato turned on her, and his sword was, again, coming at her for a strike.

She deflected him, and she tried to stab him in his stomach, but he deflected that, too.

Everything was a blur; one second you think Alix is going to win when her sword comes at Cato at distorted angles, the other you think Cato is going to win by the way he dodges her attacks and comes at her with brute force.

She made the mistake, however, by trying to hit him on the head. He just pushed her hands away, knocking her sword out of her hand.

He began swinging the sword at her, but she ducked reflexively, making him miss. He growled and swung at her again, but she quickly moved away from him.

That's when Cato let out a really angry growl, that almost sounded like he wanted to bite someone.

In her shock, Cato took the opportunity and pinned her to the ground, his sword readily positioned to stab into her stomach.

They were panting, exhausted a bit, but their eyes never left each other's. Alix could still see that darkness, that _ferocity_ in his eyes, but slowly, they lightened. Finally, he grinned at her, and he whispered, "I win."

She gave a small, smug laugh, and said, "You can't say that."

He wondered what she meant, when he felt the tip of a blade press against his throat.

The knife. He'd forgotten all about her knife.

He looked into her eyes again, and she tried not to blush. She loved his blue eyes, the way they sparkled, even when he was angry, but when he looked at her like this...

She swallowed, and Buzzcut finally spoke, much to her relief.

"Excellent," he commended. "Wonderful. Get up, both of you."

He stared at her for one more second, before getting up. He held his hand out to her to help her up, and she gladly took it. He smiled at her, which was his way of telling her that the demonstration a while ago was nothing but a demonstration. No more, no less.

"You see?" Buzzcut told the class. "These two have respectable, and commendable fighting styles. Cato uses his brute strength to overpower Alix. He is strong, but he makes use of his agility and power to defeat her."

"I told you," Cato whispered in her ear, and she flinched a little when his lips accidentally brushed her ear. "Sorry," he added sheepishly, "But I told you. I win."

"Whereas Alix," Buzzcut continued, "uses technique. Take note of this: _technique._ Her fighting style is graceful in its own way, _but_ it manipulates Cato's style to her own advantage. She twists his style so that instead of being defeated by it, she can use it against him."

Alix gave a smug sigh. "Right," she teased Cato, "You win."

"Which, in the end, gave them a fifty-fifty percent chance of defeating the other. Who wins between them, we cannot determine. Only _they_ can tell us who will win, and who dies."

Buzzcut's eyes scanned the class, then he concluded, "That is what a victor is made of. He is supposed to be strong enough to overpower his opponent, but he has to have wit and technique to assure his victory. That is why he is called a _victor._ "

He clapped suddenly, startling the class. "Now, each of you. Get a partner. I want you to focus on the fighting style of your partner, and attempt to overthrow them. Use their advantage and make it yours."

The class then began getting up, pairing with each other, grabbing swords and axes and knives to practice with. Cato and Alix lingered behind the rest of the class with smug smiles on their faces.

"You and I make a great team," Cato told her thoughtfully, running his finger across the blade of his sword.

"Of course we do," Alix told him, crossing her arms. "We're partners in crime, remember?"

He chuckled, shaking his head, then ruffling his blond hair with his hand. He held out his fist. "You?"

She looked up at him, and their eyes connected. She tried not to stare into them too long, because she hated what those eyes could do to distract her. "And me," she finished, bumping her fist against his.

"Well, then," Cato told her, leaving his place on the wall to shake some feeling into his arms, "Let's go practice."

"Didn't we practice enough?" she complained, but she picked up her sword anyway. "We already did the demonstration."

Cato smiled at her. "Yeah, but we are the top fighters of this class for a reason," he reminded her.

"We're the top fighters," she repeated, raising an eyebrow, "which means we can use that title to get away with anything. Like, I dunno...lounging around?"

He laughed, then took her hand and tossed her over his shoulder. She squealed, and he twirled her around, tickling her. "You are insane!" he told her, but his voice was drowned out by her laughing. "We're not supposed to be lounging around, we're supposed to practice!"

"Cato!" Alix said loudly, beating her fists on his back. "Cato, put me down! Stop! Enough!"

They were both laughing, enjoying the moment together, unaware of how the rest of the class watched them, some with amusement, some with disgust. Even Buzzcut had eyes on them, his one eyebrow raised, but his expression was warm and relieved.

Either way it didn't matter who was watching. When Cato finally put her down and they were both still shaking with laughter, Alix looked up at him, giving him a genuine grin, and somehow, a part of Alix wished that they could be this way forever.

* * *

 **A/N: Sorry this one took a while! While I wish I had all the time to write, I am unfortunately only a student dealing with the pains of a heavy workload and of course, academics should always be the most important and the top priority. Always remember to study and take your studies seriously, kiddos, it's your ticket to a better future!**

 **Please, please leave a review! ^^**


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